Closer

by Kaia Bennett

  "Lift your legs up."

  She stared up at him, tucking her knees into her chest. She was painfully aware of her nudity and the vulnerable, open position she was in. He leaned his forehead against hers, the first show of tenderness since he'd arrived, and once again she was lost in his beautiful eyes. Her sight went blurry when he slipped his fingers back inside of her and soon the only thing she could think about was release.

  "Yes, yes... oh yes," she sighed against his lips. He was stroking her faster, bringing her towards the finish line of her first orgasm. It felt so good she wanted to cry.

  She nearly did cry when he pulled his fingers out and slapped her pussy again, jerking her back to the world of longing just as she was about to pass over into the world of fulfillment. She was so hot and swollen, so ready to come, it literally hurt.

  "P-please!" Her eyes were watery, her body shivering and her hips rocking against his still fingers. "I’ll be good, please let me come!"

  He gave her another cruel smack, tilting her head up so she was staring in his eyes. He kissed her, his tongue diving into her mouth so she could taste her own sweetness mingled with his. His fingers once again forced her to start the climb towards ecstasy. Her pussy fluttered around his fingers, her eyes squeezed shut. She was nearly there, but she was also relishing the overwhelming sense of sexual power and possessiveness emanating from him. She was his. Her pleasure was his to give or withhold. If only she had half as much power over him.

  "Who does this pussy belong to, dirty girl?"

  She gasped in barely enough air to speak, breathless from pain and pleasure. "You. It's yours, Gabriel."

  "And who decides when my dirty girl gets to come?"

  "You do..."

  He smiled down at her, swirling his fingers over her pussy for a brief moment.

  "You think you deserve to come now? Huh?" He pulled his fingers away from her pussy and slid them deep into her mouth. "Should little sluts like you get to come?"

  She whimpered around his fingers, pleading with her eyes and feeling a shudder of apprehension spike through her. Realization sank in like an anchor for her. This was only the beginning. He was right; she should have gotten more rest. How long could he torture her like this? How long could he force her body to flirt with climaxing before she just shut down and passed out?

  "I asked you a fucking question," he growled, smacking her breast sharply.

  She opened her mouth on a soundless scream. Her pussy was throbbing, her head felt light, and her entire body was shaking. She needed to come so badly she thought she would be ill from need. "Please," she stammered out. "P-please! I n-need to come. Tell me what you want me to do!"

  He kissed her sweetly, brushing her hair back from her forehead. Another show of tenderness to mix in with the brutal brand of sexiness she was submitting to.

  He let go of her, forcing her to balance on her shaky arms, and went around to the side of her body. He pulled out one of the chairs tucked against the table. Then he stripped off his t-shirt, unbuckled his belt. Her mouth actually watered when he unbuttoned, unzipped, and freed his cock, his jeans hanging low on the perfect cut of his hips.

  He sat in the chair and leaned back, legs spread and one arm dangling over the back of the chair. He would have looked relaxed if not for those eyes and the way they devoured her body, if not for the hand stroking the engorged symbol of his arousal.

  All it took was a tilt of his finger and she was slipping off the table, balancing on wobbly knees before dropping to the floor in front of him. Her face was mere inches away from his cock. It was dripping pre-cum, the angry red tip staring her in the face, and no sooner had she licked her lips then he was rubbing the tip against them and saying through gritted teeth, "Get to work."

  He shoved his length past her lips and she spread them wide to accommodate him. He groaned at the suction of her mouth, her tongue fluttering back and forth and then flattening as he drove in deeper and deeper.

  "Mmm... ahhh, fuck!!” He gripped the back of her head and his hips took over so he was driving his dick into her mouth like it was the pussy he was going to fuck soon. “That's it, Nic. You’re such a perfect little fuck-toy.”

  She moaned over her mouthful, staring up at him with so much hunger she didn't know where she wanted his cock more: in her mouth or in her pulsing pussy. She scraped her nails down his torso, mimicking the pattern of his tattoos and then the muscles cording through his lean thighs.

  “You like that, don't you? Love it when I fuck that pretty face."

  She moved her head faster, sucked harder just the way he liked, and thought she might be able to come without a touch when his mouth opened wide and then closed so sharply she could hear his teeth click together. Being used by him was the most potent aphrodisiac.

  His hands were shaking in her hair and she looked up to take in her handiwork. The muscles in his jaw were working. His hair was falling over his forehead and flirting with his long, dark eyelashes. His eyes were taking on the narrowed, distant look he got when he was getting ready to come. A sense of pure pleasure and power swept through her. She picked up the pace, bringing her hand up to stroke his thickening cock, preparing to suck the release out of him.

  He had other ideas.

  He tugged just hard enough on her hair to get her attention, lifted her by his hold on her chin and said, "Sit on it."

  She didn't need to be told twice. She scrambled onto his lap, he lined the head of his cock up with her juicy opening, and as she sat down he thrust up to meet her.

  For what felt like an eternity she sat still, her eyes closed, her hands frozen against his chest and her thighs trembling. She imagined herself falling apart, floating away, coming undone, but his arms held her captive, a willing prisoner to the many ways he could introduce her to ecstasy.

  The need for friction could no longer be postponed. She started to move, and her body shuddered violently with relief.

  Finally…

  This was what she'd been craving, what she needed. And this time she was going to come or so help her, she was going to choke the fuck out of him and take her orgasm by force.

  "Motherfucker..." Gabriel whispered against her neck.

  Every touch, every sense was on high alert. Her thighs rubbing against the rough fabric of his jeans; her sex, soaking wet, and gripping him with a steady mind-numbing rhythm. And the heat. She was breaking out in a sweat just from the feel of the scorching, wet friction between them. Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing had ever made her feel so lost and out of control before. She’d never trusted anyone this much before. She felt like every flicker of his gaze over her was recording, savoring every second with her.

  Lost in her singular sensations, she was startled to realize that he was watching her so intently, as if she were the only thing in the world he wanted to study. She’d never felt so beautiful, so needed and trusted. Because it did take trust for him to dominate her this way, trust that she wouldn’t be scared of him, that she could take what he gave her and still see him as her sweet Gabriel.

  She felt so much for him, so much she couldn’t articulate. She let her body speak for her instead. Spurred her on by the look of pained arousal on his face, she ground her hips over him in tight, fast circles, each one like the drop on a roller coaster. His fingers tensed and his teeth gritted against the pleasure, but she wasn’t ready for him to come yet. Mercifully, she released him and lifted herself up and down for a few long, hard strokes before she repeated the torturous pattern of grinding on him. He groaned, gripped her upper arms and tugged her to him so he could suck on her tender breasts.

  Nicole tilted her head back and gave into the wet suction of his mouth. Shockwaves of pleasure attacked her nipples and her pussy danced more frantically on his cock. Soon – so soon she could almost taste it – she was going to come. Gabriel released her breasts, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. She tucked her head into his neck and felt the heat of his naked torso melt into hers. Again and a
gain he lifted his hips up to meet hers and she cried out for him not to stop when she could find the words to speak.

  “That's my girl," he groaned in ecstasy, kissing her lips until he had to pull away to breathe. "Ahh, that's my dirty-fucking-girl! Ungh... you fuck it so good, sweetheart!"

  He shoved in harder and faster and she clutched at his shoulders, his arms, nails breaking the skin. He liked that, she knew, liked twisting out more of the fight in her, that little taste of pain she dished out when she was overwhelmed. He tested her with a brutal stroke, and grinned when instead of whimpering, she released a guttural shout, dipped her head forward, and dug her teeth into the rounded muscle of his shoulder.

  "Too... good, so fucking good—" Her voice trailed off into in a feral groan as she came. Her entire body was flooded with the sensation, and this time Gabriel didn't relent. He didn't stop. He made sure he fucked her good, pounding into her until he broke shortly after her and his hot come painted her womb. The sound of his moan, somewhere between a growl and a vulnerable cry, and the pained expression on his beautiful features intensified every time she swiveled her hips over him.

  He titled his head back, the moans falling from his lips without pause until she captured them with her mouth. He didn't let go of her, but his entire body slackened, his head dropped to rest on her shoulder, and she leaned her face against the top of his head. She felt strangely protective. Watching him lose control and then look so vulnerable and sweet made her want to hold him close.

  She could feel his warm breath wafting over her breast, a rapid yet steadying rhythm that made her shiver. She laid kisses over the top of his head and stroked her fingers through his soft, dark hair. She loved the way it felt brushing against her neck, the way his larger arms were wrapped around her body. She couldn't help rocking against him, never wanting to let go of how good it felt to have him nestled inside of her.

  Gabriel swallowed, looked up and the look he gave her was one of gratitude and affection. No matter how rough he was, how animalistic his urges, when it was all over, she was always there to kiss him the way she was now. There was nothing to forgive, just pleasure and release, but she could feel his body relax when she smiled against his lips. Tenderness and forcefulness; both parts of him were allowed, both were as safe as she felt in his arms.

  "Kiss me again," he whispered, rubbing his nose against hers. He smiled when her lips touched his, her kiss so gentle it was as if she thought he'd break if she pressed her lips too firmly to his.

  "Again," he whispered when she came up for air. They were laughing against each other’s lips, their limbs weak with exhaustion. Still, when they came up once more he'd barely gasped in a breath before he tightened his grip on her and said, "Again."

  Nicole giggled against his lips. "Keep this up and you're going to get tired of my kisses."

  He shook his head before running his fingers through her hair and pulling her face closer to his. "Never..." he whispered. "Never get tired of this..."

  Chapter 11

  Gabriel stood behind Nicole, his arms wrapped around her waist, and his face nuzzling the side of her neck while she made him something to eat. They were recovering from what seemed to be an insatiable need to be tangled up in each other after a night of intense, nearly violent fucking. Now, after showering and getting dressed, they were taking a much needed break, if only to protect each other’s bodies from breaking down on them.

  Gabriel's tan shoulders and back were covered in thin red scratches and bite marks, which were visible because he was still shirtless and only wearing his jeans. Nicole had stared in horror at her handy work that morning, but he'd just laughed. In fact, he'd been quite turned on when she was making those marks, and he knew when he felt them ache underneath his clothes he was going to think of her. He noticed Nicole was walking more gingerly than normal; she’d be thinking of him too.

  Their lips were swollen from kissing and sucking on various sensitive parts of each other, and their limbs were weak with exhaustion. They were a hot mess... and still, they'd probably have ended up fucking again if he didn't have to head into the studio later that morning. At least for the moment, their minds weren't on sex. Nicole was discussing work, which she'd taken off from so she could spend the morning with Gabe before he left.

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow as he listened to Nicole vent her hatred for her job. "I mean, I'm selling fucking furniture. And I gotta sit in an office and listen to some self-important douchebag – who was an hour late, by the way – try to critique my sales performance based on a fifteen minute shadowing session?"

  "You get critiqued?" Gabriel asked. He unwrapped his arms and hopped onto the counter so that he was facing her. "On what?"

  She huffed as she dipped a knife into a jar of peanut butter. "On how well we know the sales model; how we treat difficult customers and mistakes with the merchandise the factory makes; what our goals are in the company; how driven we are to become slave masters – Oh, I'm sorry, I mean managers," Nicole said scornfully, her voice was dripping with sadness and frustration. "I fucking hate it there. Sometimes it's so hard to get up in the morning..."

  Gabriel pinched her cheek to get her to smile. It worked and when she nuzzled her cheek against his hand he caressed it. Funny how one minute his hands could be deliciously cruel and then comforting the next.

  "When every day is a bad day at work it's time to find another job, Nic. And hopefully one you actually like, not just tolerate. It's not impossible."

  Nicole sighed. Gabriel wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. She'd been doing the job search thing off and on for a couple of months, but her mind had been elsewhere. On Gabriel. She had vacation time set up for when he went on tour so she could visit him, and the last thing she wanted to do was give that up for a new job, or spend the rare amount of time they had together clicking away on yet another job site. She didn't dare tell him that, though. It sounded immature even in her head to endure a job she hated just so she could hang out with her boyfriend more. Was she becoming co-dependent? Or was she just terribly aware of how little time they had together?

  "I know," she replied finally, dipping the knife in again and moving on to the next piece of bread. "But I have to think about more than just being happy. I have rent and bills and student loans to worry about. And the truth is it's discouraging to spend all that time looking just so I can find a similar job. No one's willing to pay someone fresh out of college the kind of money—" She stopped and gave him a glance and an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just complaining. People put up with a lot worse every day and they're not such big babies about it."

  "You know if anyone understands what you’re going through, it’s me, but this isn't about anybody else and how they cope with jobs they hate. This is about you and what you want," he said finally. "What would you be doing if you could? What's your dream job?"

  Nicole had moved on to thinly slicing a banana, nibbling on her lip. “Dream job, huh?” It made her think of those papers you had to write for school. What did you do over the summer? What do you want to be when you grow up?

  She shrugged. "At first, I thought I wanted to go to school for Creative Writing, but my parents thought it would be better to major in something that would get me a decent job. Then I could write on the side so I wouldn't be a starving artist. So I majored in Communications instead. While I was looking for a job to tide me over in my major this one came up, and it paid well, so I just stuck with it."

  Gabriel tilted his head, his eyes widening a bit. "I didn’t know you liked to write. So, what happened? Do you still write? What kind of stuff?"

  Again that shrug, though his interest made her stomach flip. "Poems sometimes, but mostly short stories, a half-finished novel here and there. Not a lot of time for that now, and it was just a hobby, you know?"

  His eyes narrowed. She knew the words were hollow and rehearsed. She was used to telling herself the same. She could almost see his mind turning, going back in time and filling in th
is blank piece of her. All the books they’d read and talked about, all the lyrics she’d swooned over. She had a passion for the written word but he hadn't known it extended beyond reading other people’s work. She’d been uncharacteristically secretive about it.

  "When's the last time you sat down and wrote something?" he asked.

  Nicole placed the banana slices on the bread, trying to remember how long it had been since she'd written anything. Not even a journal entry in years.

  "It's been awhile, huh?"

  "Yeah," Nicole said, nodding.

  "Maybe it's about time you start doing it again, instead of pretending like you don't miss it so you can cope."

  She turned to see him staring down at her, looking like the older, wiser man he was. Sometimes that caught her off guard, and she would have to remind herself he'd gone through quite a few things in twenty-eight years.

  "Look, I know what it's like to wonder if you're wasting your time doing something you like to do. I'm not even saying you should write for a living, unless you want to. But no one is going to force you to do the thing that makes you happy. No one's going to hand it to you. You have to figure out what you want, and then go out and get it," he said, and his eyes were as serious as she'd ever seen them. "When I was doing the nine-to-five bit, I just felt..."

  Hollow...

  "Empty," he said, finishing her thought out loud. "Like my skin was on too tight. No room to move or breathe. I had all these people around me telling me I had it good, that I should stick with what I know. And I did have a good job. I could have done just fine for myself doing what I was doing." He grabbed a slice of banana. "But, after a while trying to pretend I was okay with the way things were just wasn't cutting it anymore. Had to get back to what was really calling me."

  She thought about that for a moment. "It's a little different for you, isn't it? You've known what you wanted to do since you were a kid. You’ve spent years honing that talent and visualizing how you would use it. I just... I kind of stumbled into writing. I liked the idea of doing it, but... I don't know, I just tried something new and happened to be decent at it. It wasn't a passion like music is with you."